Watch ‘Dexter’ … it’s good

I spent, what, 16 seasons or so watching “Six Feet Under” and never once did I figure out whether I liked the show or not.

I mean, I respected it, for the quality of the artwork: the acting, the writing, the direction … but I never found myself looking forward to it.

Conversely, it took me only a couple episodes to decide I really enjoy “Dexter,” which stars “Six Feet” alum Michael C. Hall … whom I’d initially declared I’d never be able to see as anyone but “David” for the rest of his career.

The difference is immeasurable … and it’s impressive that Hall pulls off two very distinctive, if creepy, takes on characters that have certain similarities. Of course, David’s dirty little secret was his sexuality … Dexter’s is his compulsion to kill things.

Now, bear in mind, Dexter is no mere serial killer. He’s a forensic pathologist working with the Miami Police Department, and his victims are chosen largely because they’ve committed some heinous deed and escaped punishment. “Silence of the Lambs” meets “Hardcastle and McCormick,” if you will.

The season thus far has dealt with Dexter’s pursuit of another serial killer, who just happens to have figured out Dexter’s own secret and appears to be toying with him. (In last night’s episode, as an example, the unseen rival dives to the bottom of the ocean to retrieve one of Dexter’s deserving victims, positioning her to be discovered by police.)

I can’t do it justice, really, with a synopsis. It’s really, by turns, interesting, funny, frightening, sad and even a little thought provoking. Nothing deep, of course, but stuff like, “Does he really care for his girlfriend’s kids or is he just putting on the ‘act’ he’s always talking about performing?”